Our gift

It was scary at first. The monsters outside, felt really menacing. The shadows, the sounds, the rumblings. When we were stuck in the home, it was a division of quarters, barked down by some grey face tangerine mother father. Some were assigned the plump and safe living quarters in the middle room, others were left to their devices and finding supplies. The top floors were a mystery, it felt dangerous, mysterious, some went up without a thought.

I was just about as frozen as I was trembling, seized in dread. The top of the stairs or the foraging outside this space felt not like options, but improbable ordeals. They had tried to push me into the fray, whatever that was, but it was futile. In moments, the leader, a grumpy old guy of course, saw that pathetic state and told me and a few others to sleep at the upstairs corner near the window. In my thoughts, it was like the T-rex ain't gonna need anything to get to me, the glass pane might as well be rock candy. Still, I mouthed only in silence, gibberish even for a useless bib like me. Ah well it was time to survive, our kind are much unlike those loudmouth airheads in the movies talking into their path of deadends. The only worry was the snoring of my group, and maybe that would expose me if I did :). I have watched the movies, the monster is triggered by movement and sound. 

I don't know, we just accept the situation and try to rest. However, shortly after, from the growing commotion outside, it seemed people were getting outside to mingle to mess about. I wondered how, or why. Walking down and opening the door without hesitation, maybe skipping a beat, there was the crowd, they were all talking, making merry, walking down the streets. It felt impossible. Man had overcome the monsters. Or succumb to his or her wishful thinking. It was probably the former, these things weren't that formidable. Curious, I walked their walks, went towards the loudest of the 'bazaar' theme, a particular kind of feel, it was before us that the wrangler had mastered the massive biped lizard, somehow bringing it to heel in chains and order. Was it a wondrous thing? I don't know about that. Was it a terrible thought of us? Well, we live in the moments and it was what it was. 

Loveless

i saw her face and it was everything i thought i knew. she represented the good, the bad, the beautiful that was. the image was one of weary, one of deep pain, but why? from everything that was, it looked like she had the best of it, merry was never part of the equation. it was methodical, flowery, surgical. loveless.

once i prayed everyday that this wasn't what it was. that there was more to it. the prayer was answered easily with passage of time, from my loved ones dwindling off, to the new ones who arrived with familiar faces yet different names. i was in bliss, and i saw her face. it was everything i thought i knew, and yet nothing was the same, nothing was familiar. it was all foreign. loveless.

the truth was that she was never my queen, i never wanted one. the ones who stuck with me are just really lost people like me, wandering around having fun, doing none of the surgery that a queen provides. many times i wonder if i could be like her, consummate and engaged. yet it all felt loveless.

why? i don't know. i don't claim to know what works, i hide into my shell and live in the morass of my empire. my swamp. my safe place. for years i thought i could only hurt people i love, for years i suffered the ignominy of my existence. now i feel good but not because they had lost, but because the elders blessed me with this wind. the coming of the wind swept into my heart, propelling me into all kinds of goonery, and i loved every moment of it, the pain, the suffering, the hurt, the love, the sadness, the joy. 

i love you, loveless. however, you were never my queen.